The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1887-05-05

pennlleSS and enriched his nephew.
Only few weeks had passed since
the old home had been made ready for
its master, but in those weeks the dis
ease that had been progressing slowly,
made swifter advances towards the
end, and both men knew that before
long the old home must have a new
master. Should that master be Robert
Bradley or Walter Hallett?
The old man who must decide that
sat where his nephew had left him,
deep in painful thought. He must die!
That he knew, for there could be no
self-deception there. Die, and leave
his only child to starve! What was it
Robert had told himP
Il hive had letters telling me that
Walter Hallett is hopeless invalid,
crippled by railway accident, an1
Mary supports HIM by giving music
lessons. Mary, delicate, used to luxury,
tramps about in all kinds of weather,
going to her pupils, coming home to
nurse and comfort her husband, and
do the drudgery of their poor home.
She will not accept charity, and she
has never forgiven me for urging her
not to marry against your will. So he
struggles on as she best can. Three
children lie in the coffins who might
have lived with proper food and cloth
ing. Uncle Hugh, do not take two
murders on your soul, | pray you!
They will die if you do not relentr
That was what Robert had said. The
invalid reached out his arm and opened
a drawer in the desk beside him. 1t
opened reluctantly, as if it had been
long closed, and inside lay bundle of
letters.
What made him read thema 1t was
years since the tiny child's hand had
penned that Dear Papa" that
stretched in uneven lines half across the
sheet. Only few lines in each letter,
written when the child was in the
country with an aunt. But the few
lines all bore the same burden of child
ish distress.
1T is nice here, but want to come
home to my dear papa" Or, please,
please, papa, come here to Mary, OF let
me come home to you"
He read them all; but the last one
was in the flowing hand of a woman,
and it told the story of that other love,
stronger than that of child for parent.
But there was no anger in his face as
he read, only white terror, as if he
feared his hour too brief for his work,
lie drew up sheet of paper within
reach, and wrote his will again,-very
brief, very plain. Everything was left
to his daughter, and in case of her
death without children, to his nephew,
Robert Bradley.
As the invalid signed his name, his
physician came in, and one look at his
patients face brought him quickly
across the room.
Don't mind me-" Mr.. Bradley
whispered, the beads of perspiration
starting on his forehead. Sign that
as witness. Ring for servant to sign.
Quick!-quick! There is no time to
lose"
A quick jerk Of the bell brought a
servant and Robert, and the invalid
gasped out the few words,-
''Sign-my will-my signature-you
are witnesses.
Then. hours of agony, ending in
death
1t was a week later when Robert
Bradley stood at the door of il lodging
house i'll one of the poorest streets
in Westminster, listening to a woman,
who was speaking rapidly but
not without feeling.
Yes, sir, telegram came for Mrs.
Hallett, but it was on the day she
buried her husband. Yes, sir, he died,
and suffered more than tongue can tell.
She had to give up her teaching, and
she's sold everything she could turn
into money. She read the telegram,
and she Smiletl-it was just awful, sir,
that 'smile-and whispered, too later
And she scarcely speaks, but sits there
with her hands in her lap. Sometimes
l can coax her TO bed, sometimes she
only shakes her head, and it's the same
about eating. If put cup of soup to
her lips, she drinks; but she's just dy-
ing of grief, sir. hope you are some
kin to her, sir, that can see to her be-
inc cared for. l do the best l can, but
i've big family and house full of
dodgers. l cannot do much for her,
poor thing"
u am her cousin. viii you see if I
may go to her?"
The woman nodded, and went up the
narrow staircase, Robert following
her more slowly. He had given up his
inheritance. He had conquered the
love of his life. What was to be his
rewardP He answered the question at
once. His reward was to be the COM
fort and happiness of his cousin Mary.
But could happiness come to her after
such sorrow? Again the answer came,
Thine will heal even that wound, and
l love her"
But when he stood in the narrow
entry, waiting for the summons to
enter his cousins room, there came to
him cry of horror:
Come! Oh, come quickly!"
And, obeying the summons, he saw
in one agonized look that happiness
had come to Mary in death. She had
gone to the husband for whose sake
she had given up everything, and on
the cold, pale lips was smile OF per-
feet rest and peace.
He had done all that he could, but
too latei